The Two Universes of Amman, Jordan

The recent weeks have been a whirlwind, but I'm finally settled in my new life in Amman and back online. I could write about any number of recent experiences and impressions, but I'll start with a crucial discovery that is framing my new life here: I simultaneously live in two different universes.

The first universe is high-class, Westernized, and English-speaking. I had my first glimpse of this universe when the embassy e-mailed me photographs of my assigned apartment before I arrived. My jaw dropped when I saw the marble floors, the chandeliers, the plasma screen and surround-sound stereo, the five bathrooms, and the sweeping view. When I tell Jordanians the general area I live, they are shocked. What kind of graduate student can afford to live there? Gleaming SUVs line the streets, a Ferrari is parked nearby, and during the workday I frequently spot Filipino or Sri Lankan maids cleaning neighboring apartments or helping my Western neighbors carry up their groceries. This universe also includes the US Embassy, where I can take my family to the pool, eat steak and drink beer in the overlooking restaurant, and participate in a variety of social activities with other Americans. When I want to go shopping, this universe offers everything I need. It's a quick trip to Cozmo, a sparkling multi-story building that is something like Whole Foods, Best Buy, and Target mashed together. If they don't have what I'm looking for, I can go down the street to Safeway. On weekends, what better way to unwind than go to Starbucks? So many Americans frequent the coffee shop that it's known as "embassy lite." If I wanted, I could spend the next two years of my life within a three-mile radius of my home, speak only English, and enjoy a higher standard of living than I do in the US. If I chose to travel, I could find similar bubbles of comfort and familiarity around all of Jordan's tourist hotspots like Petra and Aqaba.

The second universe is... well, much of the rest of Jordan. It's the Jordan you see when you turn down a winding side street in downtown, and dozens of young men and children are milling around in front of shops the size of self-storage units that seem to sell nothing except Pepsi and bubble gum. It's the taxi cabs, where drivers who speak no English listen to talk shows about Islam while they weave through every back alley. It's the roadside vegetable vendors who--if you can negotiate for the local price--will fill up your entire trunk for $10 or $20. It's the roadside stands of warped wood and peeling paint where for twenty or thirty cents you can buy a cup of Arabic coffee (the local "Starbucks", my Palestinian friend jokes). Most importantly, this Jordan is the homes and the families. It is my friend's house in a rural Palestinian area, where the grandfather keeps adding floors to his home to house his children and grandchildren. It is my friend's uncle's house, where we dropped in virtually unannounced and spent three hours sipping tea and feasting on a magnificent dinner.

It would be a mistake to say either of these is the "real" Jordan, because Jordan reflects all the diversity and tension of globalization in progress; there is no "authentic" Jordanian culture in this diversity, any more than there is an "authentic" US culture. But I am extremely wary of what is lost when a Western visitor to this country only lives in the high-class, Westernized universe. Unfortunately--especially for those attached to the embassy and living nearby--this first universe has a powerful gravitational attraction. It takes time, energy, and tremendous intentionality to break out. I suspect many embassy employees and their families never really do. I'm fortunate that I have a scholarship for the express purpose of cultural immersion, and that I have few responsibilities tying me to the embassy each day. I have an opportunity that others might not. Still, balancing my involvement in these two universes is extremely difficult. My wife and I have been here less than two weeks, but we've already had to turn down several invitations to social functions with other Americans because we have prior engagements with the host culture. We are grateful for the warmth and hospitality we've received from the embassy and certainly want to keep up good relations, but we also know we are--well--a little odd. We are not conforming to expected norms.

My brief experience so far has broader ramifications. In posts here and here I discussed how many Americans who try to learn about other cultures prefer a "guided" experience. We want other Westerners to guide us and interpret for us, which impedes genuine cultural contact. US government institutions like the Department of Defense and Department of State actually institutionalize this process. A constant security mindset actively discourages engagement with the host culture. Also, as a convenience to servicemembers and their families, overseas posts offer a full range of services, activities, and tours. This brings plenty of benefits, but it makes cultural immersion extremely difficult for those who want or need it. I'm curious how other Foreign Area Officers and Foreign Service Officers cope with these challenges. I met one FSO who, after a year of Arabic training in the US, has forgotten most of the language since coming here. She told me that many FSOs are simply too busy doing their daily jobs to spend much time in the local culture using the language. I've also met embassy employees who--despite full-time jobs--continue to take language classes, study in local universities, and make local friends. It seems that the experience here is largely what one makes it.